Just A Girl
by Katarite
Summary: Beka hadn't gone to Segway drift in search of another project. Harper was more than enough to handle. All she wanted was a job and a replacement Environmental Systems and Artificial Gravity officer. What she got was Trance. COMPLETE!
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Hello again everyone! For those of you who are wondering, I have not forgotten about "Welcome the Dawn". I have been working on this little story almost simultaneously and I feel like it is finally ready to be seen . This is Pre-Drom and as such can also be considered a prequel to "Welcome the Dawn". As usual, reviews are welcomed and appreciated. This will likely be updated again soon. Just A Girl 

By Katarite

Part 1

She was just a girl, or so Beka thought. If she were human Beka would have placed her somewhere between sixteen and nineteen years old. She couldn't be sure though, because the girl was anything but human. If her skin, shimmering purple in the dim and candle-lit showroom, wasn't testament enough, a long, pointed tail dragged along the floor behind her as she moved from one table to another to prove she wasn't. At each table she would either tap an order into a small computer around her wrist, or place a beverage on the table in front of one patron or another, sometimes using her tail as another hand to aid her. Human or not, she was certainly too young to be serving drinks and semi-fancy meals in an establishment like Ariano's.

The club Beka found herself in catered to Segway Drift's richer male clientele, their mistresses, their business partners, and the occasional woman who wanted to spend the evening amongst the richest of the rich and didn't mind a healthy showing of bare skin on the poor girls who served refreshments and performed on stage. It was cleaner than most places, with several small round tables draped in white and arced around a low stage. The center of each table held a lit candle, and the settings included crystal clear wine glasses and linen napkins, burgundy in color. The chairs were shaped out of metal not wood, but they were padded and upholstered in some sort of dark, leather-like, material. It was certainly not the sort of place Beka could afford, and wasn't someplace she would frequent if she could.

"What do you think?" Greg Neiman, a handsome middle-aged man asked her. He was tall with dark hair and chiseled features. His clothing was tailored specifically to his body and was a testimony to his riches. He certainly looked striking in a crisp white shirt and black pinstripe suite, but Beka wasn't about to let his good looks lure her into a false sense of security. He was a dangerous potential client who was willing to pay off one of Ignacious Valentine's creditors in exchange for a job. She could only assume he'd brought her here to intimidate her with his wealth and power. It was working, but only a little bit. She didn't scare easily.

"It's, um, nice," she replied, tactfully leaving out how repulsive she found the idea of being served by girls who were no more than slaves to Ariano, the owner. It wasn't slavery in the most ancient form. The proper term was probably indentured servant, but the distinction meant little to Beka, especially as she watched the purple girl sidestep a supposed gentleman's groping hands. As far as Beka could tell, she was the youngest server here. Places like this generally favored older women since they were more reliable and less of a liability on a drift like Segway where there were laws meant to protect young girls from harm. Given the girl's exotic features, it was no surprise that the possibility of expensive litigation was ignored. She was a novelty that would keep men coming back for more.

She disappeared into the back room and came out a moment later empty-handed and began to approach their table. Beka hadn't been able to make out her costume clearly from across the room, but now she could see that she was wearing a colorful halter-top that stopped a few inches above her hips and was decked out with golden embroidery, and golden thigh-length skirt that seemed to be made of various pieces of flower-petal shaped cloth. The outfit was constructed with expensive materials and was obviously well made, but it was a slave's outfit none-the-less. When she moved, the skirt parted, showing off shapely legs. She was small and slender with the sort of delicately sculpted stomach that only teenagers could pull off. Up close, her skin sparkled as if someone had spilled a crate of glitter over her. She wore dozens of tiny clips in her short blonde hair, and her eyes were painted heavily. She smiled softly as she stopped at Beka's table. Not surprisingly, the smile didn't reach her incredibly dark eyes.

"My name is Trance, and I will be serving you exclusively this evening," she said, giving Greg a deep curtsy. She had a soft and gentle voice that seemed almost child-like to Beka. Everything about her seemed so despite her location and rousing dress. Greg grinned at her lasciviously and Beka knew he had to have requested her services in advance and had paid good money for them. It was almost certain that Trance's obligations to him would carry on well beyond supper, and it made her stomach turn.It wasn't as if she were a bleeding heart who worried over every sorry case she ran across. In truth, this girl's situation could be a lot worst. She wore nice clothing, probably ate well, and likely had her own quarters on the drift. She was slave to a rich man, and served other rich men, which meant she didn't have to deal with the crude comments of the usual riff-raff that populated drifts like Segway. In fact, she probably didn't have to mingle with them at all. Men like Ariano guarded their property well and treated it with care, as did those who borrowed that property. If she had been here very long, she was probably quite sheltered in almost every aspect of her life. That didn't mean she'd never been on the streets or subjected to the terrors young girls could face out there, but she was safe for now. Many girls were not so lucky and Beka came across at least a half-a-dozen who were worst-off almost every day, however something about this girl drew Beka to her. Perhaps it was the air of innocence around her, or her obvious uniqueness, or the look in her eyes that said she was far more than a slave, but Beka couldn't help but feel for her.

"Hi, Trance," she replied, giving as warm a smile as she could muster, "My name is Beka Valentine." Trance took a step towards her and curtsied again. Beka caught the pleasing scent of earth and sweet flowers wafting off of her; it was warm and natural, something that could not be found in a bottle. She wanted to put a hand beneath the girl's bowed chin, raise it up until their eyes met, and tell her to forget about the false pleasantries-- the bowing and the scraping, but she knew it would be a waste of breath. In Trance's world, the option didn't even exist.

"May I get you anything to drink?" the girl asked as she straightened her body. She kept her eyes down towards the carpeted deck, as was proper for someone in her station.

"I'll have a double scotch." Greg answered right away. Trance tapped a couple of buttons on her wrist unit and then glanced at Beka.

"And for you?" Beka did not drink at all, much less on the job. Establishments like this did not offer much by way of non-alcoholic beverages. It defeated the purpose. A cursory glance around the room showed that most of the women present were daintily sipping on wines that ranged from a delicate pink to blood red, or fruity drinks with pretty garnishes. She gave Trance another friendly smile and said,

"If you have any sort of iced tea, I'll take that. Or coffee." The girl returned her smile with a small closed-lip smile of her own. "And, while you're back there, you should get yourself something, since you'll be sitting out here with us all night." The girl lifted her eyes just long enough for Beka to see a spark of happiness flash through them before returning to her submissive stance. Greg gave Beka a strange look, which she ignored. She knew enough to know that it wasn't all that unusual to invite a slave to sip on a drink during mealtime, so long as she didn't ignore her duties. Her father had been entertained in such a fashion by potential clients before, and she'd listened to him tell the crew his stories when they assumed she was tucked quietly in bed.

"I think I can do that." Before Beka could even say thank you, the girl had turned around and was gracefully making her way back into the kitchen, tail dragging behind her. Greg watched her go, his eyes lingering on her tailed behind. Beka resisted the urge to punch him out right then and there. It was an unfortunate truth that she needed creeps like him to keep from going under. She had mouths to feed.

Once Trance had vanished behind a set of swinging black doors, Greg turned to her. He shook out his elaborately folded napkin and began to twist it in his hands, not in the quick movements of the nervous, but slowly and deliberately. His eyes, as brown as an oaken desk, were as hard as wood as well. His expression had changed from lustful to pure business in an instant. Beka knew these types well. They were all about the power their money gave them.

"So, can you do the job?" he asked. The job in question was a cargo run through pirate-infested space to supposedly drop computers and medical supplies in a system torn apart by war. She had her doubts about the legitimacy of the cargo since he was willing to pay an awful lot for her to carry it, and he wasn't known for making his riches in a strictly legal fashion, but it didn't matter too much. She had dealt with stolen goods before. The trick was to get in, drop off the cargo so he could receive Good Samaritan points that kept the public and whatever passed for law enforcement these days looking the other way while he dealt below the belt the rest of the time, and get out with enough money to feed her small crew and keep her ship going for another month or two.

"I can do it, but like I already told you, I'm short an Environmental Systems and Artificial Gravity officer. I won't head into hostile territory without one." He set down his napkin and nodded once.

"I can take care of that for you." Beka leaned in and gave him a wry smile. He wasn't going to get the best of Captain Valentine.

"Can you? My crew is important to me, and I don't let just anyone on it."

"You'll have your choice out of several of my best men and women," he said.

"Is that so?" Beka asked as she set her elbows on the table and clasped her hands together. She lowered her voice into a conspiratorial whisper. "What if I don't like my choices?" He leaned forward as well until their noses were almost brushing against each other. His breath smelled of hours old alcohol, probably left over from lunch. She stayed put.

"Then you had better rethink how you are going to pay back your debts." They sat there locked in a sort of staring contest until the sound of someone clearing her throat interrupted them. Beka looked up to see Trance standing before them with a tray balanced on one arm and a nervous smile on her face.

"I'm sorry to interrupt," she said as she placed a cup of iced tea with a piece of fruit on the rim in front of Beka, and Greg's scotch in front of him. She promptly took their meal orders and returned with their appetizers, small soups and salads, just as dancing girls appeared on stage, swaying their scantily clad bodies to lurid music. Trance kneeled down beside Greg as she was ordered and sipped some sort of clear liquid, her eyes alternating between the stage and her clients. She was attentive. As soon as the appetizers were finished she quietly rose, cleared the dishes, and returned with their meals. Beka had ordered some sort of steak that came on a fancy plate with rice and some sort of mixed vegetables. Everything was arranged as prettily as possible, as if her meal were a sculpture in an art museum. It seemed almost a shame to ruin it to someone who usually received her food in any way, shape, or form she could get it. She must have stared at it for a long time because the girl asked,

"Is it all right Captain Valentine? I could get you something else." Beka shook her head and smiled, scooping up some of the starch on her fork.

"It's great," she said and placed the food in her mouth to prove her point. It _was_ delicious. Trance watched her for a moment before taking her place at Greg's side again. Beka could feel those dark eyes on her time and time again while Greg laid out the details of the job, occasionally competing with the show's loud music. No surprise, the girl had taken an interest in her. She figured that the Trance would remember her after tonight as the strange woman who was kind to her, but somehow, as Beka watched Trance try to keep her expression neutral while Greg ran his fingers through her blonde curls, it didn't seem to be enough.

The night dragged on, they finished their meals, and after a while Greg seemed to forget her presence as he became more increasingly intoxicated and interested in the stage show. Beka was bored and more than a little disgusted, but it would be in bad form to leave now. As a rule, one left with their potential employer, and not a moment before. At least tonight she would be walking away. The deal was set and there was no need for any more collateral as was the case in many deals, and that was great, because Greg was not the sort of man whose flaws she could forget in the heat of passion. Trance would not be so lucky.

She let her eyes wander from the dancers on stage, which were actually quite talented, to Trance. Greg whispered something to the girl and she smiled sweetly, playing her part well, but there was a look in her eyes that Beka understood better than most. She let her eyes wander from the girl's face, trying to find her hands. She girl was sitting on her knees beside Greg with one hand his knee and the other holding a glass she'd been sipping on all night. That wasn't right. She studied the girl closer; occasionally glancing at Greg to make sure he hadn't noticed her scrutiny. Beka knew that look and knew what it implied. She had grown up around it. She had to stifle a gasp as she found what she was looking for.

While Trance spoke to Greg, drawing circles on his knee suggestively with one finger, her tail slipped into the pocket of his custom tailored suite, drawing out a small bag, no doubt filled with thrones. As a kid, Beka had done her fair share of pick pocketing, had taught her brother how, and had on occasion needed to punish her young engineer, Seamus Harper, for doing so when the extra income wasn't necessarily needed. She was so enthralled by the skill Trance exhibited that she had forgotten to shift her gaze, drawing the attention of her future employer. Being a starship captain and pilot meant Beka was no novice when it came to thinking on her feet. She turned abruptly as if she'd just thought of something important and knocked over the full glass of tea Trance had refilled a few minutes before. The liquid spilled across the table and flowed over into her lap, its iciness seeping through the fabric of her trousers.

Trance gasped and leaped up, grabbing a napkin off the tabletop and throwing it over the mess. It was saturated in a matter of seconds, barely making a dent. Beka felt something hit her foot and glanced down to see the small bag resting there. She made a show of bending down with her napkin to clean the tea off her lap and discretely picked it up, placing it in her pocket.

"I am so sorry!" she exclaimed, keeping up with the act. The floor manager, a monster of a man, was heading towards their table while Trance stole napkins off the empty one next to them in an attempt to clean things up. She managed to get the table dry just as the manager grabbed onto her slender arm and dragged her off into a darkened corner. Trance winced in pain at his grip but followed with no argument, having to take two steps for the manager's every one. Unfortunately, Trance would be punished for this even though it was clearly Beka's fault. That was the way of things. Beka watched guiltily out of the corner of her eye as Trance frantically tried to explain things to the large man and received a slap across the face for her efforts. A glare like none other Beka had ever seen passed over the girl's face before she instantly schooled her expression into one of docility.

"She should not have placed things so close together, but she is still so young, so I suppose it is excusable. Are you all right, Beka?" Greg asked, automatically placing the blame on Trance's shoulders. She didn't remember giving him permission to use her first name. Men like him were bigots, all of them. Her answer was a definite no. She was not all right. She was cold, wet, and feeling as guilty as hell, and did not want to even look at Greg anymore. Not to mention she had to see a man about some supplies in just a couple of hours and wanted some time to clean up beforehand. However, she bit her tongue and said as sweetly as possible,

"I know you brought me here and everything, but I really do have an early day tomorrow, and would like to turn in for the night." Trance returned with a young boy at her heals holding a bucket that she cleared dishes and wet napkins into, keeping her eyes downcast. Her tail seemed to droop and Beka could almost make out a handprint on her cheek.

"No problem. I can understand." He reached into his pocket and Beka had to stifle a satisfied smile when he came up empty-handed and confused. "I seem to have misplaced my cash, Trance, could you credit this meal to my account and I will settle the bill later." She nodded submissively and tapped some commands into her wrist unit. Beka could feel the bag of thrones heavy in her pocket. She would have to find Trance tomorrow, but for now she had to get out of here and away from Greg.

"Everything is taken care of, sir." Trance said in her small voice.

"Wonderful. I have a few things to take care of, but I will see you in my quarters in a couple of hours, huh?" He patted her cheek, and Beka could tell how crestfallen Trance was by the way she held herself, but the girl knew her roll and smiled sweetly.

"I will be waiting," she said before curtsying a good night and walking away, swaying her hips suggestively.

"May I walk you to your ship?" Greg asked. Beka forced a smile and shook her head.

"I'll be fine, thanks," she said and walked away as quickly as she could without seeming rude.


	2. Chapter 2

Part 2

Hours later, Beka almost found herself wishing she had stayed with Greg. Segway Drift was set up like most orbital habitats. The middle decks were the commerce decks. Ships docked towards the center of the station, and their crews generally found themselves surrounded by shops, booths, restaurants, and taverns. The more respectable entrepreneurs kept their shops and homes somewhere around docking level. These were generally decent, clean shops with all merchandise cleared through the Free Trade Alliance. They weren't terribly overpriced, and one could count on any equipment they bought to work, and usually work well. If one went a few decks higher, she would find herself in an area generally reserved for the rich and successful. The upper decks were filled with parks, museums, boutiques, and fancier restaurants than those down below. If one went in the opposite direction, she would find herself in a place reminiscent of Hell.

Beka was no stranger to the lower decks. It was where both the riff-raff of the universe, and people struggling to get by like her, resided. It was home to smugglers, thieves, vagabonds, flash addicts, ruffians, drunks, and those who had no choice but to deal with them in order to survive. There was no law on the lower decks, and certainly no order. Bars and casinos far outnumbered any shops down below, and anything one bought was either smuggled, sub-par, or both. Deals were made in cash, and more often than not, blood. It was on the lower decks that Beka had had her business this evening.

The Maru was always wanting for parts. Her ship was old and had been in terrible condition for as long as she could remember. Unfortunately, she was not a rich woman, and even when she did make a decent bundle from a job, her share was instantly split between repairs and creditors, so she could not afford the pretty parts she found on the middle decks. That meant dealing dangerously with the crooks down below. These sorts of deals usually had one of two outcomes, sex, or blood. Tonight, blood had been on the menu. She had her parts tucked away into a satchel carried at her side, but she also had a split lip, a cut on her arm that would need nano-bots or stitches (the latter being more likely), an ankle that was probably broken, plasma burns on her side, and more than a few painful bruises to show for it. Her former ES and AG officer, Vexpeg, had been her bodyguard before, but he was dead now. Her young engineer would have been more than happy to step up for her, but he was just a kid, and one under her protection at that. No one would do business with her if she allowed Rev Bem, her Wayist Magog friend, to stand by her side because most people tended to ignore the triangle around his neck and zoom straight in on the fangs, so tonight she had been alone.

"Captain Valentine?" a small and horrified voice inquired, causing Beka to stop midway down an empty hallway. She turned around to see Trance standing a few feet away. She had changed into a dark blue, silky kimono that fell a few inches above her knees and was tied tightly around her tiny waist. Her legs were bare and her feet covered in house slippers the same color as her robe. Her hair was loose and hanging somewhat disheveled around her face, which had been cleared of all make-up. Trance looked like she was ready for bed, and yet she was running around the halls of Segway drift somewhere around 0300.

"Trance?" she asked in a tone of disbelief. "It's not safe for a young girl to run around the halls this late at night, especially dressed like that." The purple girl ignored her words and stepped up to her, concern etched in her motions.

"It is not safe for you either. I am protected a little; you obviously are not. What happened?" Before Beka even knew what was happening, Trance was skillfully retying the handkerchief Beka had hastily tied around the cut on her arm, making tsking noises with her tongue.

"I had a run in with some thugs, it's nothing."

"This is not nothing, come with me." Trance said. The timidity in her voice was gone. The girl who had sat beside her all night, eyes downcast, was now in control. She had taken a hold on Beka's good arm and was leading her down the hall. Beka did not know where, but she wasn't inclined to argue at the moment. The girl seemed to want to help, and besides, meeting Trance now meant she wouldn't have to come looking for her tomorrow. "I have to stop somewhere first and then you can come with me to the clinic." Beka stopped moving and gave the girl a solid stare. Now she had a reason to argue. Some of the command that had taken over Trance dissipated under Beka's scrutiny and the girl seemed to shrink before her very eyes. She forced her expression to soften. Trance was trying to help and she was frightening her.

"I don't have enough money for the clinic." She had been on her way back to her ship, the Eureka Maru, where Rev Bem could patch her up as best he could with their medical supplies before she ran into Trance. Medical care was expensive, especially on drifts like Segway. It would most certainly mean a couple weeks less recovery time, but even that wasn't worth the price. She had managed to save up five hundred thrones, but every guilder of that would be needed to fix up the ship for their next job. Greg was willing to pay her a lot to finish, but he wouldn't put a cent into her ship beforehand.

"You don't have to worry about the cost, Captain Valentine." The girl tugged at her arm, urging her to keep moving.

"Beka, my name is Beka." She said as she, much to her surprise, found herself following again. It had to be the pain, which was slowly becoming unbearable, sucking away her sanity. A little purple slave girl told her she didn't have to worry about the incredibly high cost of medical care on Segway drift, and she believed her… that had to be a prerequisite for at least one asylum in the known universes.

They walked for a short while, though Beka would be hard pressed to remember how far they had come, or in which direction, as her head was beginning to swim. She was beginning to think she wouldn't be able to go on much further when they stopped in front of what appeared to be a storage closet. Trance tapped a few buttons on a side panel and stepped inside, pulling Beka after her.

The room was very warm and lit by what looked like sun lamps, a light source that mimicked the radiation of the sun in smaller hydroponics gardens. The air smelled strongly of soil and flowers, the very same scent that surrounded the girl. The room was tiny, only a few paces deep and just wide enough that if Beka stood in the center with her arms spread widely her fingertips would not brush the walls. She had been right in assuming that this room was a storage closet. Shelves lined the walls from top to bottom, and almost every inch was covered in plants and gardening implements. The ceiling, at least, was tall, and a sitting hammock hung from it. Trance ushered her into the hammock and started rooting around the shelves. From one shelf she pulled a fuzzy gray purse that she slung over her shoulder, and then moved to another where she examined one of her plants and pulled off a few leaves. Trance approached her, holding them out.

"Chew on these," she said. Beka narrowed her eyes.

"What?" Her voice sounded as weak as she felt.

"They taste really bad, but they'll help with the pain pretty quickly. You'll pass out before we get to the next deck if we don't do something about it." Fair enough. Beka was already feeling faint, and Trance seemed to know what she was talking about. _Curiouser and curiouser_, she thought as she slipped the leaves into her mouth. The girl had not been lying about the taste and Beka involuntarily gagged. Trance kneeled before her, looking up with dark eyes full of concern. One of her hands made motherly circles on Beka's back.

"There there, none of that. Keep chewing. You can stop in about a minute." She then started bustling around again. After what Beka assumed was a minute, but felt like a lifetime, Trance returned with a small bowl. She held it at Beka's chin.

"Spit." Beka did as she was told and was rewarded with a water bottle that she greedily drank from.

"What is this place?" Beka asked. Trance looked around her surroundings, as if she had to think about it, and then answered,

"It's my secret place." She stood up and took the bowl to a corner where she left it. Beka began to feel the effects of the leaves in the form of a somewhat detached and airy sensation that moved from somewhere around her middle to the rest of her body. She resisted the urge to wave a hand in front of her face to see if it still looked and worked the same way as it had before. She didn't have much time to ponder this though as Trance had gently grabbed her upper arm and was urging her to stand. "It's working, now we can go."

Beka stood obediently, but shook her head as she remembered something. Trance looked at her expectantly as Beka dug into a pocket and wrapped her fingers around the little bag Trance had tried to pilfer earlier. She had counted the coins back on the Eureka Maru before setting out again, and was shocked that Greg would carry around such a sizeable purse. Not many people did these days, as coins tended to disappear on drifts like Segway. She had debated on whether to give it back to the girl, or keep it to buy much needed food and supplies for her ship, since Trance already thought she'd failed at pick pocketing. However, Beka's conscious would not let her, and now that the girl was helping her, she felt even more obliged to give her the prize.

"Here, you dropped this." Trance's eyes widened, and then she nodded, gingerly taking the bag out of Beka's hand. Her other hand left Beka's arm, leaving her momentarily dizzy without the support she hadn't known Trance was giving her. The girl was stronger than she looked, and quite gentle.

Without saying a word the girl kneeled down somewhere towards the back of the room and took out a small metal box that gleamed in the dim lighting. She opened it, the lid making a small scraping sound, and dumped the contents of the bag. The tinkling of dozens of small metal pieces landing on top of many more filled the room. Trance had obviously been busy alleviating her customers of their material wealth for some time now. Beka wondered how long she had been collecting, and why.

In a moment, Trance had returned to her side and placed one of Beka's arms over her shoulder.

"Off we go," she said, "And thank you for not turning me in. I know you saw me. You're pretty good. I haven't been caught in a very long time." All Beka managed was a nod. Her mind wasn't exactly foggy. In fact, it was working quite well, but it took all her concentration to send signals to her body, which no longer hurt, but instead felt as if it were under remote control. Trance led her through a few corridors, up another level, and down a few more before stopping in front of a door with one of the many symbols that represented medicine tattooed on it. The girl opened the door and announced herself (at least that is what Beka assumed she was doing) in another language. It sounded like Rigonian, and her suspicions were confirmed when a man with the telltale ridge along his brow and blue shaded, diamond shaped imprint on his forehead, wearing a white coat, rushed over.

Beka found herself ushered to an empty bed in a clinic that was lot fuller than one would expect at 0300, and with people who didn't look like they could much afford the medical care.

"I am Rian," the doctor said in slightly accented common.

"Beka," she muttered. Her senses were starting to return to her, and along with them, the pain. Whatever Trance had given her didn't last very long. Trance spoke a few more words to Rian in Rigonian and then patted Beka on the knee.

"I have work to do. I will come back and check on you in a few minutes." The doctor quickly set to work. With a bit of gentle pressure on her back he enticed her to lie down on the bed before he pulled over a tray of medical instruments. This was the first time in years Beka had been attended to by an actual physician, and she certainly could not complain about his gentle bedside manor. Unfortunately, though Trance had told her not to worry about it, she could not stop herself from keeping a running tally of how much all of this would cost her in the end.

"The purple one is quite a mystery, isn't she?" Doctor Rian asked. She had been watching as the girl pulled out a pharmaceutical of dried plants from her purse, laying each one carefully down on a sleek metal countertop.

"Does she work here?" Beka asked, "I thought she was a slave." Rian nodded gravely.

"She is, but she is also a talented medic. I risk much by allowing her to help out here, but she was once the charge of an old friend who would be heartbroken to see what has become of her. She sleeps only a few short hours a night, much less than the clients she is ordered to serve, so I allow her to practice medicine at this free clinic. I pay her a small amount. She is saving up for her freedom, though I fear that most of her money comes by less honest means." Rian took off her bandage and began inspecting the wound on her arm, and a moment later the plasma burns on her side. The pain of her injuries was threatening to steal her focus, her control. Beka hated to be out of control, so she focused on the girl, and the mysteries surrounding her, while the doctor picked up a scanner and ran it over her prone body.

"You say she was the charge of a friend? Forgive me, but I was under the impression that most Rigonians are not very accepting of outsiders, especially those who are… well… different." Rian did not take offence at her words. He gave Trance a reminiscent look before picking up a nano-bot injector and programming commands into it.

"You are correct. Rigonians generally keep to themselves, though there are a few exceptions, such as myself. Those of us who wish to help the rest of the Universe live on a moon colony called the City of Peace. According to the street children who live there, Trance came to us in the night. No one is certain how she came to be there, or where she came from. She simply appeared. Had she appeared anywhere else, such as the planet below, her reception would have been quite different, but the City of Peace is used to outsiders. Though I must say we have seen none as mysterious as her. She couldn't speak any language the children could understand, but they tentatively accepted her, naming her Trance after a demon in an ancient children's story.

"A demon?" Beka asked incredulously. She could see how, even in many Human cultures, Trance's features (namely her pointed tail) could be construed as demonic, but there was certainly nothing malicious or frightening about her.

"Ah, you misunderstand. It is my fault for not explaining it better. Would you like to hear the story of the demon Trance?" He pressed the injector into her neck. She felt the curious crawling sensation beneath her skin that always accompanied nano-bot injections and had to resist the urge to squirm. She nodded and said,

"Sure." She remembered how her father had told her stories as a child when she lain in bed sick, how his voice had comforted her, and how his words had taken her to a different place, away from the discomfort of her illness. In a way, the good doctor's words recaptured that feeling.

"In the early times, long before modern history begins, a beautiful goddess, sister of the sun god fell in love with a dashing demon who had been challenged by his fellow demons to seduce her and win her heart in the same way he seduced and won the hearts of the Rigonian people. After all, his fellow demons said, are gods and goddesses any different than people?

"He worked for several centuries to win her heart, flattering her in every way possible, until he finally held her in his arms. But something unexpected had happened. He too had fallen in love. They shared in their illicit romance, hiding it from the gods, and playing a part for the demons, which believed him only to be using her for his own means. But soon, the sun god became suspicious of his sister's mysterious absences from the palace and discovered their relationship.

"He was very angry, and banished the demon back to his realm, forbidding his sister to have anymore contact with him. To think that a demon and goddess could mingle together in such a way! She was heartbroken, missing him, and wishing she could have part of him to keep with her always, until the day she discovered she was pregnant with a child conceived by their love. Her joy was immeasurable, but her brother was distraught. All children were precious, but what kind of child could be born to a demon and a goddess?

"When the girl-child was born she proved to have the tail of a demon, and the sparkling skin of the gods. She was named Trance, meaning 'child of day and night'. She grew, as all infants do, into a child. She reveled in playing amongst the Rigonian people. She was kind hearted and loved life, as was proper for a goddess, but she was also playful and mischievous. Her mother doted upon her, never chastising her for the chaos she inflicted on the people she loved. The sun god loved his sister, and loved little Trance, but he knew this could not go on. His sister would never take actions to stop the young girl, so he banished the child to the City of Peace, where she could learn from the elders how to control herself.

"Trance's mother was heartbroken, but years later she went to visit her daughter who had learned much from the elders and eventually become a great leader over all the people, for she could understand the beauty and preciousness of life, as well as the darkness that lives in every soul. The mother embraced her child and knew that all of her heartache had been worth it. The sun god, seeing all this, opened up the gates to the demon realm and allowed his sister's lover to return, for the people he so loved and cared for were made up of both darkness and light, and only one who knew of both could care for them properly." Beka smiled. It was a wonderful story, so much like the Human fairy tales she had grown up with. She watched as Trance took some sort of tea concoction to a mother holding a sobbing toddler in her arms. The girl coaxed the toddler with smiles and coos to open her mouth and drink the tea.

"Trance must have seemed like a story come to life," she said.

"Indeed. Her skin was not the right color, and she did not look anything like the ancient paintings of the demon Trance, but she had a tail and sparkling skin, which they decided was close enough. The street children tried to keep her a secret, but one day _Makika_, or in common 'Witch Lady', wandered into their colony to tend to the street children's ailments and fix them a hot meal. It is an unfortunate truth that while the City of Peace was meant to be a place of good will to offer help to whoever needed it in the universe; it was overrun after the fall of the commonwealth and has never fully recovered. We do our best to help everyone who lives there, but the band of orphans who live on the streets are often overlooked, for while they are peaceful, they are also troubled and resistant to order. Most leave the moon before causing too much trouble, and those who don't eventually find themselves in correctional facilities. Life amongst them is no place for someone with innocence like Trance's.

"What did the witch lady do when she discovered Trance?" Beka asked. Rian was rubbing some sort of salve into her burns and bandaging them up with clean, white bandages.

"She took Trance in. Trance had learned a few words of Rigonian in the few days she'd been in the City of Peace, but mostly street slang that no one but the children could understand. _Makika_ saw something in her and took her away. She taught Trance Rigonian and passed on her knowledge of medicine. When _Makika_ learned she would die soon, she taught Trance Common, and told her to find her way out of the City of Peace. Trance left soon after _Makika_'s death. The old woman was a good friend of mine. It was she who first taught me about medicine. If I had known I was leaving the City of Peace as well I would have told Trance to wait and come with me. She had lived with_Makika _for two years and learned more than most do in a lifetime. Most on the moon were afraid of her and tried their best to avoid the child, but not me, nor my wife and children. I found her here six months later when we relocated to care for relatives."

"How did she end up a slave?" Beka asked, but her question was not answered, for the subject of their conversation was on her way over.

"How are you feeling?" she asked. Beka returned her smile, though it took some effort.

"Much better, thank you."

"I am glad. Was Dr. Rian telling you stories? He loves to tell stories. He should have been a _Nokari_ instead of a doctor." Beka gave Rian a questioning look.

"A poet or professional storyteller. They usually tell the histories at festivals," he explained. Beka gave the girl a smile.

"Well, he was telling me a story, a pretty good one too. It was about you." A momentary look of concern crossed Trance's face, but was replaced so quickly by another smile that Beka was not sure she had seen anything at all.

"Oh, that isn't a very interesting story," she said quickly, "I know he has much better ones to tell you." The door hissed open to admit a young man maybe a couple of years younger than her engineer. He held a soiled rag to his dirty forehead, and blood was spattered across the front of his ragged shirt. Trance rolled her eyes in a good-natured fashion and hurried off in his direction with an apologetic expression shot in Beka's direction.

"Hey, Trance, my favorite one of Ariano's girls. When are you going to come spend some time with me?" the boy asked immediately upon seeing her. He reached out his hands as if he were going to rest them on Trance's hips, but the girl expertly side-stepped the gesture, and with arms crossed over her chest, and an amused expression on her face, said,

"Uh-uh, hands to yourself. You can't afford me."

"Ah, but I only come here to see you!" he exclaimed. Trance shook her head.

"No, you came here because you were fighting again, after I told you I didn't want to see you in here for that reason anymore. One of these days I am not going to fix you up and you will learn your lesson then." She took a hold of his arm and steered him towards a bed.

"You wouldn't do that to me." She laughed softly. Even her laughter seemed gentle and innocent.

"Maybe. Now, sit here and let us see how much damage you have done to yourself." Beka was amazed at the ease in which Trance handled the boy who's wandering hands and jests, which continued even after she sat him down, seemed as if they would remind her of the men she was forced to deal with nightly, but she seemed to understand the difference between the harmless teasing of a teenaged boy and the lecherousness of grown men. She met him jest by jest with a comeback of her own and tended to his wounds with an air of genuine fondness about her, chastising him for fighting, and pleading with him to change his ways before he hurt himself beyond her ability to fix.

In a few moments the boy was sent on his way and Trance returned to Beka's bedside, just as Rian was finishing up his ministrations.

"That was Leon. I think he fights for money. He's sweet," she explained.

"He reminds me of someone," Beka replied. Rian began to put his medical implements away and Beka slowly sat herself up.

"All better?" Trance asked. Rian give her a smile, said something in Rigonian that sounded like a command and Trance nodded. Rian then turned his attention to Beka once more.

"I am going to give you some medication to control the pain, and one more dose of nano-bots, which you need to use two days from now. Everything should be healed nicely in about a week. If you don't mind, I would like Trance to see you safely to your ship. She can wander these corridors more safely than most." Beka gave the doctor a gracious smile, which was quickly replaced by a frown,

"I have nothing to pay you with," she said. Rian shook his head.

"This is a free clinic. It is my calling to help those in need no matter how much currency is in their pockets. Your kindness is payment enough, for if everyone repaid one kind deed with another, the Universe would be a much more beautiful place."


	3. Chapter 3

Part 3

With only a few more words said in parting, Beka was out of the clinic, Trance by her side. She had her concerns about allowing Trance to walk the distance between her ship and the clinic alone in her night things, but her curiosity about the girl won over her better judgment, and Rian had suggested the plan to begin with. They walked down a few long corridors in silence before Beka mustered up the nerve to ask what was on her mind.

"Trance, how did you become a slave? You have so much talent, and Rian told me about _Makika._" Trance didn't look at her but answered in a small voice,

"It was a punishment."

"For what?" she asked an instant later in an incredulous tone. What could this girl have done in less than six months to deserve slavery? Beka had thought the truth would be more along the lines of Trance being captured by slave-gatherers, or tricked into a situation she could not get out of. Trance appeared to be lost in thought and seemed to answer without thinking,

"I was disobedient."

"Disobedient?" Beka asked. Trance's head shot up and Beka got the distinct impression that the girl had said more than she wanted to, or at the very least the wrong thing, and was frightened by it.

"I mean-- well, I left the City of Peace with someone who said he would help me if I helped him. People in the City of Peace would come to me to help them find things or people that they had lost because I am really good at it. He wanted me to find things for him, and when I had found them, he wanted me to take them and give them to him so he could sell them."

"He wanted you to steal?" Beka asked. Trance looked up at her and said,

"That's not a very nice way to say it, but yes. There were a bunch of us who did this for him. One day he sent me to find something, but I couldn't take it when I found out how much it meant to the person who owned it. He was very angry with me when I came back without it, and he turned me to the authorities for a job I had done a week before." Beka began to put two and two together.

"You stole from Ariano."

"The punishment on the drift I was caught on was either death or enslavement to the one you stole from. Ariano got to choose, and so he brought me back here."

"Oh Trance…" Beka said, not really knowing what else to say. She had heard stories like Trance's often enough. The men her father had worked for had backstabbed him on more than one occasion, and it had nearly cost him his life each time. Trance was just another victim in a society where everyone had to look out for his or her own needs, but the girl's innocence made the injustice seem even worst.

"Captain Valentine, you shouldn't worry about me. It's not really what you think it is," the girl said after a moment of silence.

"What isn't?" Beka asked as she indicated with a hand gesture a turn they had to make.

"I know what you think I have to do, and I don't. Not most of the time. I'm different from them-- they usually just want to look. I'm, um, really expensive. It is not so bad." Beka stopped and stared at her long and hard for a moment. The ember of anger she'd been harboring for Ariano suddenly flared up.

"Not so bad, Trance? It's your body! No one you didn't specifically choose should be allowed to look at it, touch it, or do anything else with it," she snapped, raising her voice more than she intended to. Trance's eyes grew wide and she took a step back. She wrapped her arms around herself as if she were unconsciously trying to shrink into invisibility.

"Please," she pleaded, "I know it's not fair, but nothing is ever fair. Don't worry about me. I have been saving up for two years now. Every slave has a price on Segway Drift, and I almost have enough to pay mine." Beka instantly felt terrible for loosing control. Trance didn't deserve to be yelled at for something beyond her control.

"I'm sorry." Trance unfolded her arms and stood taller, a tiny smile coming to her lips. Beka had never met anyone who smiled so easily before, especially with a stranger. The people she knew, those she'd been raised around, usually reserved their smiles for the ones they were close to. A true smile implied a level of familiarity and ease. To show anything more than guarded smirks was to invite strangers into your personal space, a dangerous move when it was every man or woman for his or her self. Unwittingly, she felt herself return the smile.

"It's all right. I know it is because you are a good person," Trance said. Beka found it difficult to maintain eye contact. Trance thought her good because she did not know what Beka was capable of. On a good day, Beka was merely a smuggler and a thief. On a bad day… well, she didn't want to get into that. "… You should worry about yourself more than me."

"I don't understand," Beka said with a frown. She began walking again. The halls were empty and two people loitering in them at almost four in the morning would not go unnoticed by security, who diligently scanned everything above the lower decks for trouble-makers. Security generally ignored petty criminals when they came onboard because there were not enough hands, nor enough holding cells, to collect them all. However, as a petty criminal, she knew not to press her luck, especially given her company. Security undoubtedly knew the faces of each and every one of Ariano's girls.

"Greg Neiman is dangerous," the girl stated simply. Beka rolled her eyes and was thankful that Trance was too busy looking down the hall to see the gesture. She didn't need a slave girl to tell her what she already knew.

"Tell me something I don't know," she replied, the sarcasm heavy in her voice.

"Well, okay," Trance said, obviously missing it. The girl looked up at her and Beka could see that she was truly concerned. "Do you know what you are doing in the Plagis System?"

"Dropping of computers and medical supplies. I know everything is not legit, but a job is a job, Trance."

"Well… he's not lying." Trance said slowly, drawing out the first word. Her tail twitched nervously and her eyes migrated towards the deck-plates, seemingly involuntarily. Slaves were _never_ supposed to share what they had learned about those they served, especially anything that could implicate their masters (or clients of their masters as in this case) of some sort of crime. Even bringing it up was dangerous, and it was more than likely that Greg Neiman had not sat Trance down and told her his devious plans in detail. How she was privy to the knowledge could also cause the girl trouble.

"What is it?" Beka asked in a tone she meant to be soothing. Trance's tail continued to twitch, but she looked up at Beka once again.

"There-- um-- there are computers, and medical supplies, but on the computers are the schematics for some horrible weapons, and viruses that the medicine wouldn't be able to help against. What he is giving the Pangeans could kill millions." Her eyes were wide and horrified as she said, "It could destroy an entire race."

Beka had to take a moment to absorb the information she'd just received. It seemed like something should have changed at the mention of playing a part in genocide, but nothing had. Yellow lights still dimly light the corridors, which had dirty, white walls and deck-plates painted a dull brown. She was still standing there, beside a slave girl she had met less than twenty-four hours before, with her side throbbing and ankle sore from the beating she had taken earlier. Surely the Universe would be different if she were going to be a party to genocide. Wouldn't it look more sinister?

Her first instinct was to try and discredit Trance. She was a nice girl. She was smart and resourceful, but she was still very young, nothing more than a child, really. What did she know of the outside world? If she had seen something, heard something, while she was with Greg wasn't it possible that she could have warped it in her young mind? Perhaps she had just imagined such a plot, creating a grand story, as children were want to do.

"How do you know all this, Trance?" she asked, trying not to allow her skepticism to show. She must not have been successful because Trance's shoulders slumped and she averted her gaze before answering.

"No offence, but Humans tend to think that everyone has the same limitations as them. Mr. Neiman received a private call from someone and sent me into the other room where he though I couldn't hear, but I could hear everything. He received some sort of secret file with all the details, but I don't know how to find it." Although Trance didn't say it, Beka could hear the 'you have to believe me' at the end. The funny thing was that no matter how much she didn't want to, she did. Trance didn't seem like the type to misconstrue something as genocide unless she had a good reason to believe it was.

Beka was about to answer Trance when she simultaneously saw the girl's eyes grow wide and heard heavy footsteps coming from behind her. She turned halfway to look, and lumbering down the hall was a very large man with heavily muscled arms poking out of a black t-shirt that looked to be a size to small for him. His trousers were also black, and on his chest, directly over where his heart should be, was a scarlet patch of Ariano's crest. At his hip was a large side arm. His expression was of amusement, which was fortified by a twinkling in his eyes. He was obviously a man who enjoyed his work. Beka also noted that he swaggered rather than walked, though on a man so large and graceless the effect was more frightening than alluring.

It was obvious that someone at the security office had found Trance's presence in the halls anomalous and called in the cavalry. She spared a glance at the girl who was standing perfectly still, not even her tail twitching, with eyes trained on the massive man. The man's lips curled into a distorted smile as he approached. Beka stepped in front of Trance, assuming a protective stance, her hand reaching for the gun she usually kept holstered at her hip. Unfortunately, it wasn't there. Segway drift kept total anarchy from breaking out on the lower decks by making it impossible to carry riffles and guns beyond a certain point. A fat lot of good those protective measures did her now.

"Trance, darlin', what are you doing out here in the halls so late? It isn't safe for a girl like you," he said with mock concern. His expression, a mixture of lust and power, belied the kindness of his words. He gave Beka a hard look and placed a hand over his riffle. The sheer size of it made Beka question his sense of masculine adequacy. He was certainly overcompensating for something. Her mind raced as she tried to think of a way to keep Trance safe from this man, but all her efforts were thwarted when Trance stepped out from behind her, moving towards the man with her head bowed. She stopped just in front of him.

"I was just helping Captain Valentine. She was at the restaurant tonight," she replied. Her voice was so quiet that Beka could hardly hear her. The man reached forward and placed a calloused hand on Trance's cheek as if he were nothing more than a concerned lover. Beka's insides screamed for her to do something, though with no way to defend herself and several half-healed injuries to top it off, she was at a loss. Besides, it wasn't her job to meddle, right? She had no ties to Trance beyond that of a kind stranger. Why should she care what happened?

"Did Captain Valentine pay for your services this evening?" He spoke to her in the same tone a parent would use when addressing their child.

"No sir, but she works for Captain Neiman."

"Did he order you to help her? If not, I am going to be very upset. I thought we agreed that there would be no more problems like these." Trance was silent for a moment. Her tail began to move quickly, and likely involuntarily. She took a few deep breaths and then answered in a whisper,

"No sir." The man drew his hand away from her face only to swing it forward a moment later, slapping her with enough force to send her staggering backwards. Trance gasped, but did not cry out. Beka lunged at the man, but was forced to stop when his hand closed around the butt of his riffle.

"You," he said, addressing Beka, "will return to your ship before there is trouble, and you…" He grabbed Trance's arm roughly, closing his hand, which was large enough to circle her arm completely, around it. Beka could see his fingers digging hard into her flesh. "You are going to come with me back to Mr. Neiman's quarters, where you will stay until he returns you. Got it? There will be consequences once Ariano find out about this."

The man didn't give Beka any time to contradict his words. He began dragging Trance down the hall. Beka watched helplessly as the poor girl tried her hardest to keep up. The girl looked over her shoulder, shooting Beka a look she could barely comprehend. It was as if Trance were being pulled away from her only hope, and that hope was Beka. _Poor kid_, Beka thought, _I'm just a freighter captain. What does she expect from me? What can I possibly do?_


	4. Chapter 4

Just A Girl

Part 4

Everything onboard the Eureka Maru was still and silent when Beka stepped inside. She was comforted by the familiarity of her ship, the only home she had ever known. It was old, but the dingy metal bulkheads, the faded paint, and the dim lights that were never quite bright enough to cast away all the shadows, was all she ever needed. Sure, she dreamed of manning the helm of some shiny new ship, sleek, painted in vivid colors, with bright, full-spectrum lighting, fresh coffee in the morning, a shower in every room, and bots that took care of menial tasks like cooking and housekeeping. Every pilot wanted free run of a vessel equal to a High Guard ship-of-the-line, but if she never made it to the top (which she knew she never would), the Eureka Maru would be enough.

All the lights were dimmed save for the one that originated in the galley. Rev Bem was up early, as was his custom. Beka had to admit that she was not sure if he had even gone to bed. He did not need as much sleep as she and her young Engineer, and could go for days without it if need be. When concern for the safety of a crewmember compelled him, he was known to forgo sleep altogether until said crewmember was safely back home. She moved into the galley to see him seated as still as sculpture on a stool, his head bowed in prayer or meditation. He looked up as she entered.

"Are you all right?" He asked, "I was concerned when you did not return."

"I'm fine, but we may have a problem. How long has Harper been asleep?" She moved across the galley to stand at the entrance to the berthing room. Through the shadows, she could see the lump that was her young engineer on one of the top bunks.

"Our young friend turned in some four hours ago," Rev answered patiently.

"Good, he's slept enough." She climbed up onto the ladder to Harper's bunk.

"May I ask what this is about?" She placed a hand on the kid's shoulder and began to shake.

"I'll tell you in a minute, first I need to get this one up." Harper grumbled, but did not otherwise stir. "Harper, get your scrawny little butt up. I have a job for you." Beka heard Rev's footsteps behind him.

"Is this really necessary? He does not sleep so well usually, and I believe he may have been drinking prior to retiring." Rev's concern for the boy was valid. She hated waking him as well. Harper had been with them for a year, and he was a work in progress. She had taken a mess of a boy off of Earth and groomed him into something a little more presentable, though he still had his problems. Amongst them were his restless nights. His sleep was plagued with nightmares, even a year after leaving the horrors of Earth, and sometimes his mind just worked too much to allow him rest. Therefore, it was a shame to interrupt his alcohol induced deep sleep, but he was the only one who could do what she needed done, and she needed it done immediately.

"I have no doubts that he's been drinking, but I need him. Harper, _come on_." She gave him a shove and he rolled over onto his back, eyes still closed.

"Aw, boss," grumbled the boy.

"I have a job for you." His face twitched and he opened his bleary eyes.

"Boss, I was havin' an amazing dream," he said in a whine, "there were these girls--" She caught a whiff of stale alcohol and wrinkled her nose. At least one thing could be said for Harper, even though went out and drank an entire bar every time they put in at a drift, she could at least expect him in bed early. The only exceptions were the rare occasions when some woman who'd had a bit too much to drink, or unusual taste in men, allowed him to crash in her bed for the night. Lucky for her, this was not one of those nights.

"I'm sorry, but I need you. Come on, get up, and hurry." She hopped off the ladder, her boots crashing loudly against the deck plates. Pain shot up her ankle, but she ignored it. Harper sat up slowly, grumbling something incoherent. Beka was glad she could not understand.

She took a seat beside Rev in the galley and a moment later the red-eyed Harper stumbled in. He had not bothered to change out of the gaudy orange t-shirt he had been wearing the day before, which was now rumpled and sticking to him, and his sandy blonde hair was mussed and standing up on one side. All and all he was a half-drunk and pathetic sight to see, but even so, she knew she could trust him to get the job done, and get it done right. Harper made a beeline for the cooler and took out a Sparky cola. It opened with a hiss and he downed it in a series of loud gulps. Perhaps, she thought, he needed some more training in manors…

"What's this about?" he finally asked after letting go a rather loud and distasteful burp.

"We may have a problem. I need you to hack into the Drift's computers and find any secret files Greg Neiman may have saved on there." Harper blanched.

"Our employer? Why are you having second thoughts about him now? A bad date is no reason to wake me up at a god-awful hour and risk my life." Beka ignored his comment and let him get on to where he was truly going. These quick-spoken and self-absorbed ramblings were typical of Harper, especially when he was afraid of something. "C'mon boss, Segway Drift's personal and secret files are protected by a row of killer firewalls that need a finger print and personal code to get through, and if you somehow manage to hack your way in, you have to avoid hundreds of hidden trip-wires which will knock you unconscious and send the authorities after you! The penalty for hacking on Segway is either an all expenses paid trip to the nearest Nietzchean run prison planet, or a lengthy interrogation followed by a quick, but very painful, death." She held in her sympathy. She knew what she was asking him to do was very dangerous, but now was not the time to coddle. She had confidence in his abilities, and knowledge of the danger would keep him careful. Harper needed a strong hand to guide him, not a doting mother figure.

"Can you do it?" She asked in matter-of-fact tone. She leaned her body forward with her hands folded on the table and looked straight into his eyes. They were getting clearer and more focused by the second. Not a thing in the universe could sober Harper up faster than the challenge of a job. His hand went up to a shiny metal ring in his neck, the dataport he had saved his money for and had installed a few months before.

"Are you kidding? I am a freakin' genius. I just wanted you to know what you were getting me into. What do you want me to look for exactly?"

"Anything he has hidden. If he is hiding it, it can't be good, and I have my suspicions. Now go, and hurry. Greg expects us to be ready by tomorrow night and I need to know what's in those files."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm going," the boy grumbled, and promptly turned on heal towards the airlock. Beka sighed and slumped into her seat, exhausted. Rev's eyes were on her. She knew the questions he would ask, though she was not sure she had the answers. She gave him a small nod to let him know it was all right to start the inquisition.

"What is this all about, Beka?" he asked as he stood up and moved beside her. His fur covered hand reached out, and with a gentleness that seemed impossible for so frightening a creature, began to examine the bandages on her arm. If anyone had told her years ago that she would share a tiny starship with a Magog, she would have told them to lay off the drink, but Rev, like Harper had come into her world a person in need and never left.

"I think we may have signed up for more than a stolen supplies run, Neiman might be using us as an accomplice to mass murder."

"Does this have anything to do with that?" He lifted the bandage, and once satisfied that everything was all right, replaced it, "I did not know we had the funds for a clinic."

"No, this happened on the lower decks, that's another story though. And, I didn't spend any money at the clinic I was taken there by… by a girl."

"A girl?" Rev took a seat directly beside her. By his tone, it was clear he knew there was more to the story. He always knew.

"A slave girl. She's the most interesting being I have ever seen. She's purple and has a tail. She served us at Ariano's tonight. I was coming back to the ship and she found me and dragged me to a free clinic that she helps the Drift's doctor run late at night."

"That was very kind of her." Rev said. Beka just nodded and then after a moment said,

"She was with Neiman tonight. He purchased her services."

"It was she who told you of the danger?"

"Yeah." Rev nodded and Beka stayed silent. She blinked slowly in an attempt to fight off her tiredness. If things kept going the way they were, she would not be getting any sleep tonight. Rev moved to make her a pot of coffee as if he had read her mind.

"You believe her?"

"She has no reason to lie to me." Rev did not reply, instead the room filled with the sound of percolating coffee. The smell of the strong brew filled the room and she felt more alert at just the scent of it. She took a deep breath and risked closing her eyes. Behind them, she saw Trance being hauled away from her, and the look in her eyes that said only Beka could help. Suddenly, she slammed her fist against the hard metal table. The force of the blow sent a burst of pain up her arm and then continued to sting. "God Rev, I can't get her out of my head!"

Her old friend did not seem at all startled by her outburst, and why should he? There was not much she could do to frighten a Magog, one of the most fearsome sentient species in the Tri-Galaxies. Moreover, he was used to her sudden bouts of temper, having served beside her for years. His look was one of utmost compassion when he said in reply,

"Tell me about her."

"Like I said before, she is the most interesting species I have ever seen. I don't know what her people are called, or where in this giant universe they might come from, but it must be far away because I've never even heard of people like her. She's beautiful… and smart, very smart, too smart to be a slave." Rev set a cup of coffee down in front of her. The steam rose in tendrils towards the inlaid lights on the cupboard above the table.

"Many smart girls find themselves in situations they cannot get out of. It can be difficult to watch." Rev replied as he took a seat beside her once more. She gave her friend a weary smile. He knew more of the injustice of it all than she did. He of all people could understand.

"You can't take to heart every bad situation you see. She has it better than millions of girls her age. I shouldn't even care, but it's – it's hard to explain what it is about her. It's like she's completely innocent." Beka took another sip of coffee as she tried to order her thoughts. Rev waited, ever the patient one, for her to finish. "Trance – that's her name – has all but admitted to me that she is a thief, and I know what girls like her have to do behind closed doors, and yet despite all that, she's not jaded. She still cares about and trusts strangers… just like a child. I think she believes I can help her." The last part was said quietly.

"Did you give her any indication you would?" Rev asked.

"No. I mean she's just a girl. No matter how innocent she is, or how unique, she's just another slave girl. I've seen the look of hope in the eyes of girls worst off than she is; I've heard at least a thousand stories. I can't just give in to every one of them, I can barely take care of what I have." She stared into the dark depths of her coffee cup as if the answers she was seeking were hiding within the brew. She felt a warm, furry hand cover her own and looked up at the kindness displayed on a face that to most was a nightmare come true.

"We hear thousands of voices each day, millions in a year. Most of them are quiet. We hear what they have to say and then we forget, but every once in a while one voice calls louder than all the rest and it is difficult to ignore. Do we not owe it to that voice to listen?" Beka stared into Rev's wise old eyes. At one time, his voice had called out to her. She had been making a supply run when a Wayist monk had begged her for a favor. A fellow monk, he'd said, needed immediate passage off the planet for his life was in grave danger. He was a good man, caring, and devout in his religion. He would work for his passage if she would only keep an open mind. She had been ready to say no, but she had been piloting the Maru by herself for a while, aching and lonely after her father's death, so she agreed. She almost changed her mind when she found out Rev was Magog, but the medallion around his neck and the testimony of the other monk, a human man, sealed the deal. She never once regretted that decision. She shook her head.

"Rev, I didn't come here looking for another project. I wanted a job and an officer, but a trained officer, an adult. She'll be like Harper; she'll need to be taken care of, and she'll have to be trained." Rev nodded.

"Indeed, and Harper is quite a handful sometimes." Rev said in agreement. Beka gave a soft chuckle.

"Not sometimes, all the time. And what about Harper?"

"If they are close in age, they are likely to become friends. Perhaps a friend is what he needs." Beka nodded, but there was a frown on her face.

"That could be bad, too. Vexpeg wasn't even nice to Harper and his death was hard on the kid. God forbid he and Trance become friends and then something happens to her… or what if they become more than friends? She's pretty, and you know Harper. This job is dangerous. If we lost her, it would kill him." Rev patted her hand.

"It sounds as if you have already made up your mind. It is good to look towards the future and see the larger picture, but you must not concern yourself with the details in the present. Do what you feel is right, that is all you can do."

"You're right," Beka said, standing up. She downed the rest of her coffee. "You're absolutely right." She walked out of the galley without another word and headed towards the small closet she called her quarters. It was nothing fancy; a bunk, a desk, storage compartments beneath the bed and hanging from the ceiling, and layers of pictures on the walls, but it was hers and she did not have to share. She knelt before the desk and tapped in a code to unlock the bottom drawer. She pulled out a small metal box with a complex electronic lock and pressed her finger to it. It scanned her fingerprint and opened. Inside was her entire fortune, a pittance, but it would have to do. She pocketed a bag of 450 thrones and made her way back towards the galley just as Harper was coming in, an information storage device in his hands. He handed it to her.

"You weren't kidding when you we might have a problem. That guy is seriously psycho." Beka glanced at the material on the screen. She scrolled down until she reached the end, all the while her sense of unease growing. Trance was right, though she had missed an important detail. Greg Neiman never intended to let the Maru go intact.


	5. Chapter 5

Part 5

Part 5

"Boss, I don't like the look on your face. What're you thinking?" Harper asked. His blue eyes were fixed on her. He looked nervous. She didn't say anything to him, but stood there with lips pursed. Inside of her raged a great inferno of emotion. First and foremost, Greg had lied to her. People lied. That was common knowledge and nothing in her short life had come along to purge her of that notion. Even so, she expected, or rather demanded, truthfulness and respect from those she did business with, no matter how much money or power the other party had compared to her. She did not believe herself inferior simply because she was poor. Money did not make the man. Secondly, Greg was threatening her small family. They were a crew of unrelated misfits, but all the same, they were her misfits, and no one was going to harm them under her watch. Finally, he was threatening her ship. The Maru was all she had left of her father. It was his legacy and was destined to be hers. It was her home, her playground. The Maru was her very livelihood, and she was willing to do anything to protect that.

"It's nothing you have to be concerned with. There are parts in my satchel by the airlock. I want them installed and running properly before noon," she said. Harper blinked and stared at her as if she were in the process of growing new appendages. His mouth worked for a moment as he formed an argument, but in the end he stayed silent. Harper was not the most empathetic person in the universe, but he was smart enough to know when she wasn't in the mood to hear arguments.

"Beka," Rev broke in, "we are still missing some key components. They will not be delivered until ten-hundred hours." Harper nodded. That is what he had wanted to say. Beka was aware of this, but she had confidence in the young engineer's ability to perform miracles under stress.

"I don't care. It has to be done. If it isn't, we can't get out of here, and if we can't get out of here, by this time next week we'll be an obituary memo on the FTA's morning report." The kid paled. He was scared, and that was good.

"We will do the best we can." Rev said.

"Actually, I have another task for you," Beka said to Rev with a shake of her head, "There is a Wayist vessel docking in about two hours, isn't there?" she asked.

"Yes, I was disappointed that I would not have time to sit and converse with them."

"I'm sorry, but we're going to have to leave even sooner than we'd planned. But, I would like you to contact them. I know they are a supply ship, stopping where they can to help out where they can. See if they have a week's worth of food for one person and some clothing suitable for a teenage girl. I hate to ask for help, but it's going to be a bit before we can re-supply. " Rev nodded in response to her words. His demeanor was serious, though she could sense a hint of a smile. He knew what she was doing. Harper on the other hand was confused and his ears had predictably honed in on one word.

"A girl? What do you mean?" he asked.

"None of your business," she said in a stern voice, "Why are you still standing here, you have work to do." She could still see the curiosity in his eyes, but he nodded quickly and bounded towards the airlock. His Sparky Cola must have kicked in because all traces of sleepiness were now gone.

"I will do what I can about supplies, Beka. I assume you are going to do something about your little friend's situation?"

"Yes I am. I don't know how, but I am going to get her out of there. But, first things first, I need to get a weapon on the drift."

AA

Two hours later, with her heart pounding, and small beads of sweat forming on her brow, Beka was in a long corridor on the middle decks of Segway Drift. Tucked into her satchel within easy reach was her sidearm. It had taken some trickery and a few favors she had been saving up to get it on the drift, but she had it, and no one would stop her if she used it. It was nice to have connections, but after this stunt, she was going to have to kiss them all goodbye. At best, the Maru was going to be banned from Segway Drift. At the worst, blacklisted in the entire sector. She was prepared for the worst.

She stopped at the end of a long corridor and took a deep breath to calm her pounding heart. If it was true that a person only had so many heartbeats allotted to them before they died, her lifestyle was well on the way to putting her in her grave. That is if a shot from a gauss riffle didn't kill her first. Once she was composed she took a few steps and pressed on a door panel to open the door another slave had told her Trance would be behind. She stood tall and let all of her worries slide away. She was no longer just a freighter pilot. She was Beka Valentine, Knight in Shining Armor.

The room appeared to be a dance studio with bright lights and mirrors lined up along the walls. It was filled with scantily clad girls who looked up when the door opened. Two large guards, including the one who had taken Trance away just a few hours earlier, stood inside the room. The other was tall, dark-skinned, and grizzled. Bodyguards, they were called, but everyone knew they were there more to keep the girls in line than to protect them. They too looked up and were immediately on guard.

Beka did not say anything to them, but began to stride purposefully towards Trance, whose unique color made her easy to spot. In her hand was some sort of bar with tassels on the end and colored ribbons wrapped around it. She had been twirling it around to the beat of loud music when Beka came in, but stopped, staring at Beka in shock. The music stopped and the only sound was the frantic whispering of girls. Beka was by Trance's side before the guards even knew how to react.

"This is a private practice." Mr. Tall Dark and Ugly stated. Beka reached into her satchel and pulled out her riffle. It clicked as she prepped it to fire. She was happy to see that the guards had left their guns somewhere else. The girls all gasped, and a couple screamed. An older woman, the dance teacher Beka assumed, began to herd them together in a corner, her eyes looking towards Trance as if she wished she could protect her as well. She probably thought Beka was insane. At the moment, Beka couldn't disagree. She probably was insane.

"I just got an invitation," she said. She grabbed Trance's arm and gently tugged on it. Trance understood her meaning and began following Beka out the door, still holding onto her decorated pole tightly. The guards had not been expecting a battle, so they were caught off guard at first, but they began to come to their senses. Even without guns, they were dangerous. Bodyguards were usually trained mercenaries who knew how to deal with a threat. The monster-man came at Beka from the front and attempted to disarm her. Her riffle misfired into the air and she felt pressure on her wrist as he tried to shake her firearm loose. She raised her knee up into his groin, and as he fell she kicked hard into his stomach, sending him flying backwards onto the floor. A chorus of screams and gasps from the girls punctuated each motion. One scream however caught Beka's attention most.

Mr. Tall, Dark, and Ugly had grabbed Trance up by the waist and was trying to drag her away. Trance's scream was one of initial shock. There was no sign of fear on Trance's face, but rather a look of anger and determination. She kicked and wiggled, but for all her motion, she was only about half the size of the man who had a hold on her and she could not get free. Beka tried to reach for her, but the man she had just felled had come to enough to grab her by the ankle. It was her broken ankle and the pain caused her to buckle over and fall. She fell on top of the monster-man. His hand was like a vice around her ankle, sending sharp bursts of pain up her leg. Quickly, she aimed her riffle at his leg and fired. He let out of scream of pain and let go. The man who had been holding Trance loosened his grip at the sound of the shot. Trance wriggled free, swung her pole around and hit him in the back, knocking him over in a stunning show of strength.

"Trance, run!" she shouted. The girl took her advice and shot out the door. Beka was right behind her.

At the end of the corridor they stopped to catch their breath, or at least Beka did. While she was doubled over taking great heaving gulps of oxygen, Trance just stood there as if the skirmish of moments before and subsequent fleeing were no more physically taxing than a brisk morning walk. The girl was certainly a mystery, and as a rule Beka did not enjoy inviting mysteries to live on her ship beside her, but it was too late to back out now. She was going to have to go with her gut and trust the girl.

"What's going on? What are we going to do?" Trance asked. She had a frightened tone and her eyes were wide with worry. Once Beka was standing tall again she mustered up as best a smile as she could.

"We're going to your secret place and getting your money, and then you are going to be free."

"But I don't have enough," she said sadly.

"I have some thrones to throw in, and if that isn't enough, we'll improvise." Beka held her riffle up in front of her to emphasize her point. Trance looked confused for a moment. Beka wiggled her riffle and the meaning dawned on her.

"Oh," was all she could say. Beka indicated with her head that it was time to go, and Trance followed with quick steps to keep up with the older woman's fast pace.

They reached Trance's secret room quickly and without incident. Beka waited for Trance to collect her money and pack up what few belongings she wanted to take with her. She instructed the girl to leave her plants there. They would get new ones later if she wanted to stay onboard the Maru, which was not necessary, Beka told her, but Trance insisted on taking one. It was a tiny bonsai tree that she called Molly, and for whatever reason, it seemed as important to the girl as life itself. Beka was in no mood for an argument, so when they left the room Trance had a satchel slung over one shoulder and her little tree cradled like an infant in one arm.

AA

Ariano's quarters were located on the upper decks, and it was a long and fearful trip up there from Trance's little closet. Beka had called in enough favors to ensure that security would not be a problem, however that didn't mean Ariano's boys would not be after them. Luckily, it was still early in the morning, and the two men guarding the dance practice seemed to be the only ones up and about and had not had enough time to wake their companions. The duo found there way to Ariano's deck surprisingly free from obstacles. When they reached his door, Beka saw Trance stiffen beside her.

"What is it?" she asked, "I'm right here. You don't have to worry."

Trance's tail twitched nervously, but otherwise she stood perfectly still, staring at the door as if it were some dangerous creature crouched down and ready to pounce on her. Beka had never seen Ariano, but he must have been a fearful man indeed to cause such a reaction. He fed and clothed his slaves well, but Beka was willing to bet that when they crossed him punishment was swift and painful.

"I was supposed to come see him after dance practice because of last night. He already knows. They woke him up to tell him. He doesn't like to be woken up."

"I won't let him hurt you Trance. He's not going to hurt you ever again, at least not while I have a choice in the matter." The girl took a deep breath and nodded. Beka lifted a hand and pressed down on the door-panel. In her pocket were Trance's savings and hers combined. Trance could not be cheated if Beka offered to buy her. They were nearly eight hundred thrones short, but Beka had an ace up her sleeve. She always did. The files Harper had stolen for her containing all of Nieman's plans implicated Ariano as well. Apparently, they were business partners. Beka was willing to bet that a rich man like Ariano, with a reputation for catering to the rich and powerful, did not need his involvement in planned genocide, and close affiliations with men like Neiman, publicized.

The door opened to reveal the exact opposite of what Beka had been expecting. She assumed that someone who could frighten Trance so much would be built much like his hired mercenaries, but he was incredibly thin, with pale skin, and was no more than an inch taller than her. What he lacked in build, however, was made up for by the way he carried himself, and the steely hardness of his eyes. Though he still wore a bathrobe, and his hair was disheveled, his presence seemed all around threatening. In a crowd she would have thought him to be unworthy of her attention, but snakes were small and looked harmless too before they barred their fangs. He briefly looked over Beka before settling his gaze on Trance, who cowered in place, her tail wrapped tightly around her waist.

"What is the meaning of this? You were supposed to come alone," he snapped. Trance did not say anything. Beka gathered up her wits, placed a hand on her gun, and pushed passed him into his quarters, dragging a reluctant Trance with her. She was armed and he was not. No matter how frightening he seemed, she had the upper hand. The shock on Ariano's face was there for a fleeting moment before it was replaced by anger and indignation. Beka stayed in front of Trance. If he wanted to go after the girl, he would have to come through her first, and Ariano would find that she too was a lot more powerful than she looked. Once the door slid shut she said:

"I'm here to buy Trance." His attention was focused on her now. His gaze threatened to make her feel small, but she fought it. Her father had taught her to stand up to bullies and their fear-tactics.

"She is not for sale."

"All slaves are for sale on Segway drift. She has a price, and therefore she can be bought." Talking about a young girl as if she were property left a bitter taste in Beka's mouth, but it was necessary. Beka could feel sweat forming on her brow. The room was uncomfortably warm. Ariano leaned back against a large wood and glass collectibles case. The room was expensively furnished with two such cases, a chaise, a couch, and a coffee table, all situated around a wall-sized screen, most likely used for communication and entertainment purposes. Two closed doorways, each on a different wall, indicated passages into the rest of the apartment. He was right at home, and now seemed more amused than angry.

"Ah yes, if you can pay her price, I have to let you have her. But she is the most exotic of my slaves, and is quite expensive. You expect me to believe you can afford her?" Beka did not like the condescending tone of his voice, but she kept her temper in check. She slowly reached into her pocket and pulled out the heavy bag of thrones she had in there. She tossed it to him and took great satisfaction in the 'umph' he made when it made contact with his stomach.

"I can pay you in cash." He weighed the bag full of paper-thin and virtually indestructible coins in his hands. "You don't have to count it. It's eight hundred short, but you will take it, and Trance will walk away with me." Ariano stood up again and advanced on her. Beka stayed rooted to her spot. In her mind she was growing taller, tall enough to fill the room, and strong enough to stand her ground. He was so close to her that she could smell his sweat and old cologne.

"I don't know what sort of game you're playing, Captain Valentine, but if you expect me to let the girl go for anything less than her full price, you are sadly mistaken. If this stolen money isn't enough to buy her then you were stupid to risk stealing it, and stupid to come here with it." Beka didn't have to ask how he knew her name; he was a powerful man aboard the drift, and working with Neiman as well. He probably knew a great deal more about her than she wanted him to. Nor was she fazed by his insinuation that the money was stolen (which most of it she assumed was) because on Segway she could not be convicted without proof and she would be long gone before he could fabricate any.

"Perhaps you need a little incentive." She reached into her pocket once more. All the while her other hand remained glued to the butt of her riffle. She pulled out a data pad and handed it to him. His expression was unreadable, but a very slight weakening of his posture told her that what he read had affected him.

"This means nothing to me," he bluffed.

"Nice try, but if Trance doesn't come with me, I will leak this information to every major news service in the known galaxies. Your businesses will be ruined, and I'm certain at least one government will come after you with orders for your head on a platter. Keeping dealings like these silent is worth eight hundred thrones, don't you think?" Ariano took a step back away from her and she knew she had him.

"If you take her I will make sure you will never set foot on this drift again and that no one in this sector will do business with you. Is one slave girl worth that to you?" Beka had been asking herself the same question for hours. Was one girl worth all this trouble? Was helping out another lost soul worth risking her livelihood for? As she watched Ariano, she realized she finally had an answer.

"The life of a girl has no price. It is worth the trouble a million times over and more. Men like you who keep slaves, who turn living beings into property, are scum. If I could do away with every one of you, I would." Beka took out her riffle and pointed it towards his groin. "Just be lucky that all I am taking today is Trance. I'll leave your dignity intact."

"Just take her," Ariano hissed. Beka began to move towards the door, and for a moment Trance was exposed. Ariano's hand shot out like a coiled snake jumping for its prey. He grabbed Trance's arm hard enough to elicit a cry of pain. Beka loaded her riffle, ready to protect the girl. "If you ever set foot in this sector again, I will have you back. You will be mine again. You will serve only me, and you will wish you had never left."

Trance was fearful at first, but in an instant her entire demeanor changed. She no longer looked young, or frightened, but had transformed into a powerful creature that had total control over her situation. Beka stood down and watched in awe. Even Ariano was taken aback by this new empowered Trance, though he maintained his grip and hard expression.

"I have endured all the pain you have given me, all the punishments. You have hurt me in every way possible, and used every part of my body as if I were some sort of toy. No one should have the ability to treat people as badly as you do. If we meet again, it will be you who lives to regret it." Ariano let out a great growl and threw Trance back as hard as he could. She flew a few feet and landed hard on the ground. Beka heard a crack from Trance's wrist as she broke the fall with her hand. The sound made Beka queasy as she remembered the way it felt when she had received her own broken bones just hours before. To her surprise, the girl did not cry out, but the strong woman who had been there just seconds before was once again replaced with the frightened girl, now with tears of pain in her eyes. Beka resisted the urge to shoot Ariano right there, knowing that if she did neither one of them would make it off the drift alive. She had promised she wouldn't let him hurt her.

"I'm sorry," she whispered as she helped Trance up, and picked up the bonsai tree that had rolled a few feet to the side of her. Other than some displaced soil, it was fine. The girl only shook her head as if to say it could not be helped. She wrapped an arm protectively, and comfortingly, around the girl's shoulders and steered her towards the door. Trance sniffled beside her, bearing the pain silently and bravely, like a soldier. Beka stopped for a moment and looked over her shoulder.

"Just in case you feel like taking action against me or the Maru, that information has been encoded given to three different people with orders disperse it if we don't get out of this sector safely. It was nice doing business with you." And with that they were gone.

Halfway back to the Maru Beka stopped to look at Trance's wrist. It was swollen, and the skin around it had changed from pleasant lavender to an angry midnight-purple with swirls of red. It was definitely broken, and badly too.

"We don't have time to stop by the clinic. We need to get out of here before he changes his mind," Beka said, giving the girl a sympathetic look, "Unfortunately, we don't have very many medical supplies on the Maru. We'll just have to make due." Beka knew that they could set her wrist, but she would be in a lot of pain, and there was a chance that it would never be the same again. Trance gave her a weak smile.

"If you can set it, it will be as good as new in two days." Beka was dubious.

"Are you sure?" Trance nodded.

"Positive." The older woman studied Trance for a moment. She had never had such trouble pinning down one person in her life. She had put her trust in this girl, given up any chance of working in the sector with the most jobs for this girl, and risked her life for this girl, yet she knew nothing about her. She seemed so young and naive, and yet twice now Beka had seen her possessed with some sort of power; the first time when she was slapped at the restaurant, the second time just moments before. She was too smart to be just another teenaged waif, but too ignorant of the way society worked to have been around very long. Where were her parents? Was she young enough to need them? Who were her people, and why was she here without them? Beka stood in front of Trance and put a hand on each shoulder. She looked down into Trance's eyes.

"Who are you, Trance Gemini?" she asked. The girl simply shrugged and answered in a soft voice,

"I'm just me."


	6. Epilogue

Epilogue

It hadn't taken very long to get away from Segway drift and through the nearest slipstream opening. The Maru was free from Greg Neiman and free from Segway drift. Beka was exhausted from head to foot. Her body ached all over and she longed to fall into her bed and not leave it for an absurdly long time, but first things first. There was a little matter than needed attending to in the berthing chamber.

Beka climbed out of the pilot's chair and gave Rev a weak smile. Her crew had been ready and in position, with Rev on the command deck and Harper in the Engine Room, when she had boarded the ship with Trance in tow. She had settled Trance down in the berthing room with instructions not to go anywhere until they were safely out of the sector. On the bottom right bunk, which Rev had chosen for her so she would not be underneath Harper, nor in the bunk that had belonged to their former AG and Environmental Systems officer, was a small box of clothing and other such items a young girl might need. Beka had brought in the first aid kit, taped up Trance's as best she could, wrist with many a silent and pain-filled tear shed on Trance's part, and then showed her where her personal storage spaces were so she could set up her bunk the way she liked.

For at least an hour the poor girl had been alone in the berthing chamber on a strange ship with no idea who she was sharing a space with, or what was going to happen next. Before she went to bed, Beka was going to remedy that situation. Hopefully, after meeting the rest of the crew, Trance would not start looking for the nearest exit.

Beka passed through the berthing chamber and told an eager-looking Trance to wait one moment while she retrieved her engineer. Harper met her at the entrance to the Engine Room. She had a bone to pick with him before she introduced him to Trance. As they made their way upstairs she spoke to him,

"Upstairs is our new AG-ES officer. It's a girl, and I want you on your best behavior." Beka wished she had thought to give Harper time to clean up before presenting him to Trance, with first impressions being what they were. He had not changed his clothes and was covered in oil and grime. It was too late to worry about it now.

"C'mon boss. I'm always on my best behavior. When has the Harper ever let you down?" Beka gave him an indignant look.

"Do you really want me to answer that? I seem to recall a birthday suit jog through Borio Drift's trade square at the peak of the Lunar Festival." Harper's face reddened.

"It was just that once, and I was drunk. How was I supposed to know that Pagorian Ale packs more of a punch than a shot of whiskey? And, with a lower concentration of alcohol no less! I was drinking it like beer, not hard liquor. That one babe, the one with the blonde curls, she told me the jog was part of the festival." Beka pressed her lips together to keep from laughing. She had been quite angry at the time, but looking back… Harper's past transgressions were not the issue however. It was one more recent that she wanted to discuss.

"I saw a girl leaving the ship as I was coming back onboard. A pretty girl," she told him. Harper put on his best 'I would never do anything wrong' smiles and said,

"She was just delivering supplies."

"I thought the supplies were coming in at ten-hundred hours."

"She left something behind," he answered smoothly and in a convincing tone. Harper always had an answer for everything and since she made it her policy not to punish her crew on suspicion of wrongdoing, she let it go. She didn't really care how many girls he messed around with on the Maru, as long as she didn't have to witness anything first hand. He was a twenty-one year old boy, after all. But, she did expect him to be on task and thinking with his big brain when the Maru was at risk.

"Were here," she said when they reached to common room, which was immediately adjacent to the berthing chamber. Trance immediately stood up from her bunk and walked to the doorway that separated the common room from the bunks. She stood in the doorway cradling her broken wrist. She watched Harper with open curiosity. Beka wished she had asked Trance to change as well. The girl was dressed in an outfit very similar to the one Beka had first seen her in, only dark green and silver this time. Her copious amounts of bare skin shimmered in a way that made it almost impossible not to stare. She might as well have hung a neon sign around Trance's neck that flashed 'Total Babe'.

"Harper, I would like you to meet our new AG/ES officer, Trance Gemini," she said. "Trance, this is Seamus Zelazny Harper. He's harmless. Mostly." For the first time since Beka had met the boy a year before, he was speechless. He stared at her with mouth hanging open dumbly. There was nothing in his manner to give away the genius that lurked beneath. Trance looked nervously towards Beka for guidance, and when the older woman could give her none she said to Harper,

"Hello." Harper did no reply. Beka could see the wheels turning in his mind as he processed the implications of Trance's presence. There was her uniqueness to consider, then her hotness, and finally the fact that she was going to be sleeping in the same room night after night, so no matter how hot and exotic he was, he could not treat her the same way he treated every other girl, because he couldn't just say goodbye to her the next morning. Beka felt for the poor guy. It was a lot to take on at once, but he had to say something eventually. She poked him in the side with her elbow.

"Harper, you're being rude. Say something." And so her did, and it left Beka wishing she had just left things well enough alone. Harper, ever the tactful one, suddenly blurted out,

"You're purple!" Beka waited to see if Trance would become upset or offended, but the girl took it in stride.

"Your shirt is on inside out," she said as if they were playing a point-out-the-obvious game. Harper looked nervously towards Beka to see if she had come to the conclusion he didn't want her to. She had. Trance had not known Harper for more than three minutes, and she had already gotten him in trouble. Since he had not changed his clothes, there was only one reason for his shirt to be on inside out. To be fair, he would not have had a little fun down in the engine room if every task Beka had appointed him wasn't finished, and then some, and he could argue to that point, but it wouldn't do any good. She expected her crew to be one hundred percent ready when the situation was sticky.

Trance was not slow on the uptake. She seemed to realize instantly that she'd landed his buns on the proverbial hot seat, but instead of showing signs of remorse she seemed more amused, as if it had been her intention to get him in trouble all along. She had seen that look on her little brother's face all too often growing up.

"You and I will talk tomorrow, after I have slept for a while. Be thankful I'm putting it off until then. I am going to go get Rev. Trance, Rev might be a bit of a shock to you at first, but I promise he is a good friend of mine and will not hurt you." All traces of amusement left her face and she looked concerned. To Beka's relief, Harper actually offered her a reassuring smile.

"He's cool. Just think of him like a very large, and somewhat smelly, teddy bear." As she left the room Beka heard Trance ask:

"What's a teddy bear?"

When Beka reached command she motioned for Rev to follow her. He did so right away, as he was eager to meet the girl who'd had such an impact on her. Harper was in the process of trying to explain that a teddy bear was not a real animal stuffed full of cotton when he was interrupted by Trance's gasp. She looked fearful of Rev at first, but then her countenance softened to a welcoming smile. She stepped forward with hands outstretched in a way Beka had seen Wayist monks greet each other with.

"You are not afraid of me?" Rev asked. Trance shook her head.

"You are a Wayist, aren't you?" Rev nodded. Trance placed her hands inside of his. They were comparatively very small, and the purple of her skin stood out in stark contrast with the darkness of his fur. "Then there is no reason for me to be afraid. The Wayists would come visit us girls every month to give us things we did not normally get, and to tell us about the Way. You follow the Way. You do not follow the darkness." Rev nodded his head again, very slowly this time.

"Ah," he said, drawing out the word, "follow the darkness is an interesting choice of words, my child." A look Beka could not understand passed between the two of them. Trance suddenly looked away and stepped back. If it had been Harper, she would have said he was being evasive. Did Rev already know something about Trance that she did not? It didn't really matter if he did, because she would probably have more success asking the girl directly. If it were important, Rev would let her know. Beka yawned and looked at her crew, complete once again.

"Girls? What girls? Where did you get her from?" Harper asked.

"None of your business. I think I am going to get some sleep. Harper, you are on food detail today, and dishes detail until further notice. Make sure Trance gets something to eat and save me some for when I wake up."

"Yeah, all right," the boy answered, obviously not happy with having to do the dishes. Beka headed off towards her room, which was directly behind the main berthing chamber. The walls were thin, and she could still hear her crew talking.

"Why did you have to point out that my shirt was on inside out?" Harper asked, his tone hitting the whiny pitch Beka hated very much.

"Well it was. Why wasn't I supposed to point it out?" Trance replied. "Hey, those are my things, please do not go through them."

"Harper, please leave the young lady alone."

"Why do you have a plant?"

"Don't touch Molly."

"Molly? Your plant has a name?"

"Harper, you are supposed to be fixing lunch, are you not?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm gettin' on it." Beka sighed and reached out for the earplugs she kept in one drawer. With a small smile she slid them in. She wasn't sure if bringing Trance onboard was a good idea, but she was sure of one thing. Her life just got a lot louder.


End file.
